


Goodnight Irene Alternate Ending

by BlackRabbit



Series: Goodnight Irene [2]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Assisted Suicide, Death, F/M, Hurt, Mercy Killing, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRabbit/pseuds/BlackRabbit
Summary: If Hawkeye got to the scene in Chapter 21: Dog Tags too late. Basically this would end the story there and cut the last four chapters. This does not in any way fit into the other things I've written, I just wanted to write the ending different for fun. PS. This ending is not fun. TW for assisted suicide/mercy kill
Relationships: Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Goodnight Irene [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861669
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Goodnight Irene Alternate Ending

**Dog Tags – Alternate Ending/Mercy Kill**

Hours passed like mud through a sieve, and still the wounded kept coming. The phone lines were down and there hadn’t been any word from Irene or the doctor she’d left with. One after the other, corpsmen brought boys in for surgery and one by one Hawkeye sent them back out the door with prospects of a future. 

Blood caked onto his boots, seeping through in places where the leather hadn’t held up, soaking spots in his socks. Margaret remained as fretful as he felt and keeping her calm was the only way of talking himself through his own anxiety. 

Radar came in with drinks for the weary surgeons and Margaret whipped around so fast it startled Hawkeye. Lucky for them all, he was still getting gloves on and prepped for the next soldier. She didn’t get a chance to utter a word as Potter spoke up first, asking about Irene.

“No word yet, sir,” Radar said, serving Potter first. “No word on when those lines’ll be up again either. But I did just have some guys ride through a little bit ago on their way to the front. Said the road to

Seoul is clear and an ambulance bus should be here within the hour.”

“How long have we been at this?” Potter asked.

“Oh um, about ten hours, sir.”

“Damn. I’d think Foster would have been back by now.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Margaret asked.

“All we can do is wait.”

Hawkeye felt eyes on him. He looked up to meet BJ’s gaze from the next table over. Hawk was getting a firsthand look at what Beej had experienced when he’d gone to get a haircut and Hawk had to fill in for him at battalion aid. It was torture.

Klinger burst through the double doors. “Those guys headed up to the front just camp back with an injured doctor. Said they found him next to a wrecked jeep a few miles up the road.”

“My God,” Margaret breathed.

“Get him in here,” Potter said. “Did he say anything about Foster?”

“No, sir. He just keeps repeating Hawkeye, over and over.”

“Better get out there, Pierce.”

Hawkeye stripped off his gloves and threw them on the floor as he ran out the door, hot on Klinger’s heels. The two soldiers were on their knees in the front seats, leaned over to tend to the doctor as best they could but the man was in terrible shape. His right leg was gone at the knee and the tourniquet the men had tied wasn’t doing its job. Blood oozed from the wound as well as from a head injury and something on his chest that Hawkeye couldn’t see for all the blood.

“What happened?” Hawk asked, surprised the man had made it this far. 

“Dunno,” the first soldier replied. “The jeep was on fire and he was laying halfway in the road.”

“Was there a woman with him? There should have been a woman too.”

“I didn’t see a woman. Sorry, sir.”

“Dammit.”

“Hawkeye,” the doctor said, breathing raspy. “Hawkeye.”

“I’m here. I’m Hawkeye. Where’s Irene? Was she with you?”

“Hawkeye,” he repeated, holding out his hand. 

A metal chain snaked across Hawkeye’s wrist, dog tags landing in his palm before the doctor’s hand dropped. His head rolled back, mouth agape. 

“He’s dead,” Klinger whispered. “What did he give you?”

“Irene’s dog tags.” Hawkeye’s heart dropped into his stomach. In the split second before he sprang into action, he nearly vomited. “I have to go.”

“Wait, where?” Klinger yelled after him but Hawkeye didn’t reply. He jumped into the nearest jeep and tore out of the compound, sliding in a patch of mud right outside of Rosie’s.

He clutched the steering wheel, yelled and cursed and begged for miles until at last he could see the glow of fire through the trees. The jeep was in pieces scattered around the area and what was intact was in flames, lighting the road and the snowy clearing on the other side of the ditch.

Hawk grabbed a medical bag and ran toward the wreckage, slipping in a puddle of blood that had nearly frozen on the side of the road. The snow had been disturbed and he could tell it was where the doctor had pulled himself before he was found by the soldiers. Hawkeye slid down the ditch, following the trail of blood until he saw a mass in the snow.

“Irene!”

She didn’t move, not even when he carefully rolled her over. Snow had packed into a severe wound in his chest, stopping the bleeding but Hawk was afraid she was already dead. Her lips were blue and her eyes were partially open. Hair made wet with blood had frozen and crunched under his hand. There was a pulse. Faint. And he could hardly hear her breathing at all. 

“Stay with me. You’re going to be fine.” His voice shook nearly as violently as his hands as he lifted her from the snow. “I’ll fix you up and you’ll be just fine.”

Deep down he knew it was a lie. The wound was too severe. Had she been a man and had been put on his table, he’d wonder how he’d gotten that far. Had there been five more kids in triage he’d tell them this one had no chance. Tears burned his throat and he pulled her into his lap. 

“Hawk?” her voice was weak and raspy and she didn’t open her eyes.

“I’m here. You’re…. you’re going to be just fine. Hold on.”

“Liar.”

“Irene—”

“It hurts,” she whispered, choking on a sob. 

He gritted his teeth, his breath coming out in short wispy puffs. She could suffer for some time before her body gave in. If not for the cold she’d be dead already. He wasn’t doing her any favors but he couldn’t handle it. Her being gone. What could he do but ease her pain? 

“I can’t,” he said, his voice shaking. “I can’t. Please don’t leave me.”

“Please.” The word was barely audible. 

He knew he was being selfish. He knew he was being unfair, but how could he possibly live with himself if he ended her suffering? And yet, how could he live with himself knowing he was prolonging her pain from his own selfish fear of losing her? “I can’t. I love you.”

She tried to move her hand, but it only twitched, and her eyes opened slightly. “I love you,” she muttered, and his chest felt as if a hand was crushing his heart. “Let me go.”

His hand pressed to her cheek and tears dripped down his chin, but she was right. His hands trembled as he reached into the medical bag for syringes of morphine. A cold wind chilled him to the bone as he uncapped the first syringe.

“Forgive me,” he sobbed. She gave a slight nod and closed her eyes again as he injected her with the morphine before uncapping the second syringe. It would take all that he had. Her body grew heavier in his arms as the morphine lulled her to her final sleep.

“Live for me,” she whispered as she began to nod off.

“I can’t.”

“Promise me.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. How could he dare to keep moving forward?

“Promise,” she repeated, and he nodded. She didn’t have to know any different. 

It took a minute for him to realize she wasn’t breathing. With a trembling hand he felt for her pulse but there wasn’t one. His fingers lingered on her throat for a moment before it sank in that she was gone. Forever. Tears dripped onto her cheek and snow began to fall silently around him. He clutched her close to his chest and wept, wanting nothing more than for the snow to cover them both; to claim him. Just another name that never made it home. 

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, holding her. He could hear BJ’s voice calling out to him but he didn’t move. It was a dream. All of it. A terrible dream. Snow had settled on him and his body ached when he was pulled away from her. 

Someone knelt over her but he couldn’t make them out. All he could see was a shadow shaking their head. Confirming the dream was real. Hawk turned his face into BJ’s chest as the other figures struggled to lift her stiff body onto the stretcher and take her up the hill to the waiting jeep. BJ sat back in the snow and let Hawkeye grieve.


End file.
